Death Poems: On The Death Of A Young Lady Of Five Years Of Age - Poem by Phillis Wheatley

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On The Death Of A Young Lady Of Five Years Of Age - Poem by Phillis Wheatley

FROM dark abodes to fair etherial light
Th' enraptur'd innocent has wing'd her flight;
On the kind bosom of eternal love
She finds unknown beatitude above.
This known, ye parents, nor her loss deplore,
She feels the iron hand of pain no more;
The dispensations of unerring grace,
Should turn your sorrows into grateful praise;
Let then no tears for her henceforward flow,
No more distress'd in our dark vale below,
Her morning sun, which rose divinely bright,
Was quickly mantled with the gloom of night;
But hear in heav'n's blest bow'rs your Nancy fair,
And learn to imitate her language there.
"Thou, Lord, whom I behold with glory crown'd,
"By what sweet name, and in what tuneful sound
"Wilt thou be prais'd? Seraphic pow'rs are faint
"Infinite love and majesty to paint.
"To thee let all their graceful voices raise,
"And saints and angels join their songs of praise."
Perfect in bliss she from her heav'nly home
Looks down, and smiling beckons you to come;
Why then, fond parents, why these fruitless groans?
Restrain your tears, and cease your plaintive moans.
Freed from a world of sin, and snares, and pain,
Why would you wish your daughter back again?
No--bow resign'd. Let hope your grief control,
And check the rising tumult of the soul.
Calm in the prosperous, and adverse day,
Adore the God who gives and takes away;
Eye him in all, his holy name revere,
Upright your actions, and your hearts sincere,
Till having sail'd through life's tempestuous sea,
And from its rocks, and boist'rous billows free,
Yourselves, safe landed on the blissful shore,
Shall join your happy babe to part no more.


Comments about On The Death Of A Young Lady Of Five Years Of Age by Phillis Wheatley

  • Rookie - 108 Points Andrea Elizondo (9/13/2018 8:48:00 AM)

    Gorgeous poem to read! A stong topic I sorrowfully understand (Report) Reply

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Rookie Rosie (2/25/2018 1:29:00 PM)

    That was awesome (Report) Reply

    2 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Gold Star - 76,545 Points Gangadharan Nair Pulingat (9/8/2014 2:58:00 AM)

    A great meaningful poem about death of a young lady of five years age.From start to end it is worthy and meaningful remembering the reader the inevitable death and its different faces and also how to suffer the feelings. I respect the poet and likes the poem. (Report) Reply

    9 person liked.
    4 person did not like.
  • Gold Star - 123,092 Points Ramesh T A (9/8/2011 3:18:00 AM)

    Indeed there is no point in moaning for the departed soul from this temporary abode to permanent abode! The poet has wonderfully listed points to console the grieving mother advising her to seek heaven to meet her daughter to be permanently with her! (Report) Reply

    13 person liked.
    4 person did not like.
  • Rookie Kevin Straw (9/8/2009 8:24:00 AM)

    I think she is wrong in her psychology. To weep for the loss of a child is normal and in the long run healthy. When people leave each other they weep, it is as simple as that. I wonder if PW wept for the loss of her two children. PW is coming close to saying that weeping for the loss of a child is against God's ordinance. To lose a child is like receiving a wound - it will heal, but you cannot help weeping for it. (Report) Reply

    8 person liked.
    16 person did not like.
  • Gold Star - 62,309 Points James Mclain (9/8/2009 8:12:00 AM)

    There is more here to the eye than modern dissection...
    With racism today even more deadly than that which she endured..
    Many of her formative years..were without doubt traumatic..
    and what is today known of the damage..to the mind is of course without question..learning in the manner in which she did...speaks more than just to..
    the core of strength she most obviously possessed..education acquired..
    and her bearing being such..that she was introduced...to those whom discerned again as much...no not even that....but more...and that manner of speech...
    undoubtedly but sadly...lost forever...and in such a short time...put her short life against her male counterparts...would they have over come..and still be here to be read about...let us hope so...for what crushes most...he himself keeps close...
    for the rest...to become the best....
    (Report) Reply

    10 person liked.
    6 person did not like.
  • Rookie Michael Pruchnicki (9/8/2008 10:25:00 AM)

    A far cry from a Hallmark card, that's for sure, despite Richard Lord's dismissal of a poem written centuries ago. 'Nicely wrought poesy, but a bad, bad poem, ' he asserts with the priggish assurance of a modern poetaster who seems unaware of his own ignorance. Too bad Lord wasn't stirred enough to write his own poem addressed to this theme for our time!

    Read the poems by Lord posted on this site and make your own unbiased judgment as to his skills as a first rate poet. He may well fancy himself a latter day Dylan Thomas.
    (Report) Reply

    5 person liked.
    4 person did not like.
  • Rookie Richard Lord (9/8/2007 10:05:00 PM)

    I find this poem to be a longish and slightly more accomplished version of a Hallmark Cards sympathy card. I'd classify it as a prime example of poetasty; nicely wrought poetasty, but ultimately a bad, bad poem.

    And I'd like to point out that I am a deeply committed Christian who believes in anafterlife and a heavenly state where we can be in the presncne of God and all those in the communion of saints who have gone before us. But this piece does nothing to stir me - except stir me to write this comment.

    Maybe we need a poem addresed to this theme for out time. (BTW: Dylan Thomas' attempts at dealing with this theme were much better than what Wheatley gives us here.)
    (Report) Reply

    6 person liked.
    7 person did not like.
  • Rookie Cynthia Yildirim (9/8/2007 7:41:00 PM)

    whoops I guess me and Steve did not realize that your died in 1784 lol (Report) Reply

    9 person liked.
    6 person did not like.
  • Rookie Cynthia Yildirim (9/8/2007 7:39:00 PM)

    beautiful work here, and your poem of the day 9/8/07 congrats! (Report) Reply

    4 person liked.
    5 person did not like.
Read all 11 comments »
Death Poems
  1. 1. Let Me Die A Youngman's Death
    Roger McGough
  2. 2. And Death Shall Have No Dominion
    Dylan Thomas
  3. 3. Death Be Not Proud
    John Donne
  4. 4. Death Is Nothing At All
    Henry Scott Holland
  5. 5. Because I Could Not Stop For Death
    Emily Dickinson
  6. 6. Nothing But Death
    Pablo Neruda
  7. 7. A Refusal To Mourn The Death, By Fire, O..
    Dylan Thomas
  8. 8. A Dream Of Death
    William Butler Yeats
  9. 9. A Poet's Death Is His Life Iv
    Khalil Gibran
  10. 10. Father Death Blues
    Allen Ginsberg
  11. 11. Death Wants More Death
    Charles Bukowski
  12. 12. An Irish Airman Forsees His Death
    William Butler Yeats
  13. 13. Death
    Rainer Maria Rilke
  14. 14. A Death Blow Is A Life Blow To Some
    Emily Dickinson
  15. 15. The Death Of The Ball Turret Gunner
    Randall Jarrell
  16. 16. The Beauty Of Death Xiv
    Khalil Gibran
  17. 17. A City's Death By Fire
    Derek Walcott
  18. 18. Death Xxvii
    Khalil Gibran
  19. 19. A Funeral Poem On The Death Of C. E. An ..
    Phillis Wheatley
  20. 20. First Death In Nova Scotia
    Elizabeth Bishop
  21. 21. After Death
    Sara Teasdale
  22. 22. Death Leaves Us Homesick, Who Behind
    Emily Dickinson
  23. 23. Gacela Of The Dark Death
    Federico García Lorca
  24. 24. A Thought For A Lonely Death-Bed
    Elizabeth Barrett Browning
  25. 25. The Death Of Joy Gardner
    Benjamin Zephaniah
  26. 26. A Ballad Of Death
    Algernon Charles Swinburne
  27. 27. On The Death Of That Most Excellent Lady,
    Sor Juana Ines de la Cruz
  28. 28. The Death Of The Hired Man
    Robert Frost
  29. 29. On The Death Of A Young Lady Of Five Yea..
    Phillis Wheatley
  30. 30. Death &Amp; Fame
    Allen Ginsberg
  31. 31. Holy Sonnet X: Death Be Not Proud
    John Donne
  32. 32. Go Down, Death
    James Weldon Johnson
  33. 33. I Have A Rendezvous With Death
    Alan Seeger
  34. 34. Death Fugue
    Paul Celan
  35. 35. Love &Amp; Fame &Amp; Death
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  36. 36. On The Death Of Anne Brontë
    Charlotte Brontë
  37. 37. For The Anniversary Of My Death
    William Stanley Merwin
  38. 38. Fugue Of Death
    Paul Celan
  39. 39. If Death Is Kind
    Sara Teasdale
  40. 40. On Death
    Anne Killigrew
  41. 41. Death
    Heinrich Heine
  42. 42. On Hearing Of A Death
    Rainer Maria Rilke
  43. 43. As At Thy Portals Also Death
    Walt Whitman
  44. 44. Death Stands Above Me, Whispering Low
    Walter Savage Landor
  45. 45. An Elegy On The Death Of Kenneth Patchen
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  46. 46. The Death Of The Flowers
    William Cullen Bryant
  47. 47. A Death-Bed
    Rudyard Kipling
  48. 48. A Satirical Elegy On The Death Of A Late..
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  49. 49. Absence Disembodies—so Does Death
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  50. 50. All But Death, Can Be Adjusted
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Death Poems

  1. Death Be Not Proud

    Death be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe, For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow, Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee. From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee, Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow, And soonest our best men with thee doe goe, Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie. Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell, And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well, And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then? One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally, And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

  2. Let Me Die A Youngman's Death

    Let me die a youngman's death not a clean and inbetween the sheets holywater death not a famous-last-words peaceful out of breath death When I'm 73 and in constant good tumour may I be mown down at dawn by a bright red sports car on my way home from an allnight party Or when I'm 91 with silver hair and sitting in a barber's chair may rival gangsters with hamfisted tommyguns burst in and give me a short back and insides Or when I'm 104 and banned from the Cavern may my mistress catching me in bed with her daughter and fearing for her son cut me up into little pieces and throw away every piece but one Let me die a youngman's death not a free from sin tiptoe in candle wax and waning death not a curtains drawn by angels borne 'what a nice way to go' death

  3. And Death Shall Have No Dominion

    And death shall have no dominion. Dead man naked they shall be one With the man in the wind and the west moon; When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone, They shall have stars at elbow and foot; Though they go mad they shall be sane, Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again; Though lovers be lost love shall not; And death shall have no dominion. And death shall have no dominion. Under the windings of the sea They lying long shall not die windily; Twisting on racks when sinews give way, Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break; Faith in their hands shall snap in two, And the unicorn evils run them through; Split all ends up they shan't crack; And death shall have no dominion. And death shall have no dominion. No more may gulls cry at their ears Or waves break loud on the seashores; Where blew a flower may a flower no more Lift its head to the blows of the rain; Though they be mad and dead as nails, Heads of the characters hammer through daisies; Break in the sun till the sun breaks down, And death shall have no dominion.

  4. Because I Could Not Stop For Death

    Because I could not stop for Death- He kindly stopped for me- The Carriage held but just Ourselves- And Immortality. We slowly drove- He knew no haste And I had put away My labor and my leisure too, For His Civility- We passed the School, where Children strove At Recess- in the Ring- We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain- We passed the Setting Sun- Or rather- He passed us- The Dews drew quivering and chill- For only Gossamer, my Gown- My Tippet- only Tulle- We paused before a House that seemed A Swelling of the Ground- The Roof was scarcely visible- The Cornice- in the Ground- Since then- 'tis Centuries- and yet Feels shorter than the Day I first surmised the Horses' Heads Were toward Eternity-

  5. Death Is Nothing At All

    Death is nothing at all. I have only slipped away to the next room. I am I and you are you. Whatever we were to each other, That, we still are. Call me by my old familiar name. Speak to me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without effect. Without the trace of a shadow on it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same that it ever was. There is absolute unbroken continuity. Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you. For an interval. Somewhere. Very near. Just around the corner. All is well. Nothing is past; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before only better, infinitely happier and forever we will all be one together with Christ.

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